Knocked Up
by theamazingmo
Summary: We all know where babies come from. We all also know that candy from the Weasley twins is BAD news. So I bet we could all also guess that drunken Hermione plus drunken Ronald equals...well...I guess we'll see in nine months...RH HBP compatible.
1. YellowPolkaDot Panties

**A/N: All right, so I'll just admit right off the bat that I am a proud Draco/Hermione shipper. :P Haha, don't worry, this IS a Ron/Herm. Fic, made especially for my friend Jen, who is the queen of Ron/Hermione shippers. It's not that I don't like the ship, it's just that I think D/H is much more interesting and diverse. (Please don't shoot me!) **

**On another note, I would like to point out that, yes, this chapter has some naughty :P implications, and many times is the word 'panties' used, but no, this is not a sex fic, it's just, well…we all know where babies come from! Tee-hee…**

**As this is, not only my first canon fic, but my first R/H fic, please give me feedback and tell me what you think!**

**Anyways, regardless, I hope this will turn out to be a great fic, Enjoy!**

Hermione Granger awoke with her head resting on the edge of a mattress, to the sound of great snoring. She shifted and her head slipped right off the bed, landing painfully on a floor. She scrunched her eyes closed and winced in pain, lifting the blanket covering her over her head so as she might somehow fall back asleep. In response, the snoring ceased temporarily and she heard a large form shift on the bed above her. She rested her head on her forearm on the rough wooden floor, wondering _why did her head hurt so bloody much?_ She could swear it felt as if it had been trampled by hippogriffs then beat upon by Crabbe and Goyle. She poked her eyes out from under the…_orange?_ blanket to see a very…yes definitely…orange room. Her head spun in confusion now just as much as it did in pain, as she now wondered just why she was asleep on Ron Weasley's floor.

Judging by the orangey tint of the light peeping through the orange curtains, it was still early morning. _Probably not later than six o clock_, she thought.

She dragged herself up and nearly collapsed on top of Ron, who was shirtless, wearing only a pair of red and gold boxers, lying spread-eagled on his bed that now lacked covers. Hermione glanced down at herself in turn. She was still wearing her dress from the night before and…heels?

She had slept in heels? Merlin, what was wrong with her?

_Bill and Fleur's wedding!_

Her brain finally recalled the ceremony and reception that had taken place the night before in the Weasley's backyard. Well…at least she recalled the ceremony and…_most?_ of the reception…

She furrowed her brow in thought, ignoring her pulsing head. _Had she, Hermione Granger, prefect and top student, consumed alcoholic beverages?_

No…she wouldn't have!

She let out a cry of frustration as she held her head in her hands trying to remember the events of the previous night.

There had been punch.

But it definitely hadn't had anything in it that could have caused…this.

There had been Firewhiskey.

But she hadn't had any, despite Ron and the twins' insistence. Ginny had been curious, but thankfully Hermione had talked some sense into her, she was rather proud of her influence on her friend for that matter.

After dinner, she had danced with Harry first, then George. After that had been the bouquet-speaking of which, Hermione glanced around the room, locating the bunch of lilies lying on the other side of Harry's bed. Yes, she had caught the bouquet, ironic since she hadn't had a relationship of any sort since fourth year.

McLaggen had just been a red heron. A rather irritating red heron though despite.

Ginny had then grabbed her to have a heart-to-heart chat down by the pond. They had chatted about Harry, the horcruxes, and school. They talked about who would be head girl in her stead, as Hermione knew she herself was the obvious choice. They talked about the war, and whether or not they thought they would all make it out alive. And after that…

Hermione couldn't remember anything after her chat with Ginny at the pond…

Maybe she had gotten ill and passed out? And…somehow wound her way all the way up here…

Hermione glanced at Harry's unmade bed, realizing she must have slept there. Ron had probably carried her up here so she could sleep. She must have just slid off sometime in the night. Yes, that must be it. And what she was feeling now was just the remainder of her illness. Now that she thought of it, she realized it was most likely food-related. She had thought some of that French food had been sketchy…

Fleur's aunt Fanny had sat beside her at the dinner. She was obviously a paternal aunt as not an ounce of Veela was evident at all. In fact, she was rather horse-like and sported a slight mustache. Not to mention her constant drunken state. The woman had been simply horrid to endure, what with her authoritarian attitude and butchering of the English language. Anyways, she had forced her to consume some of her goat cheese pate, which she had prepared especially. Hermione remembered from her trip to France after second year, that goat cheese was very popular in France, not that she had ever been fond of it. The Fuhrer Fanny had practically shoved the cheese down her throat, she was so insistent, and Hermione was sure it was what was making her feel ill!

Hermione steadied herself on the dresser and slipped off her heels as so she could make her way down the stairs to Ginny's room safely, where her things were. She creaked open the door slowly, so as not to disturb Ginny and…Harry? Hermione knew they had been broken up but…well, you know what they say about weddings. They were cuddled on the small twin bed. She noted that they were both, thankfully, fully-clothed, and she continued on her mission to fetch a change of clothes.

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By the time Hermione had taken a showered, cleaned up, and headed downstairs to breakfast, the rest of the house was mostly awake. Mrs. Weasley was out in the garden chatting with Fleur and Gabrielle, while Fred and George snickered loudly in the corner, as usual. She was just sitting down to breakfast when Fanny sauntered down the stairs. She criticized the breakfast table with her usual remark.

"Why are there no croissants? I tell you, every day, we have the croissants, it is so unusual to eat your heavy, English food! I shall become fat by the time I leave here! At home, we French women never get fat!" And usual as well, Fanny settled for three slices of toast with jam, a large helping of eggs, five pieces of bacon, and a muffin.

Hermione had hoped to eat in silence, but, as usual within the presence of Fanny, this was not to be so.

"I tell you! You children were being so loud last night! I hear you screaming and banging around all through the night I tell you!" she yelled, sounding furious. "I couldn't get one ounce of sleep, I tell you! It is a disgrace to be so noisy! In France, our children know how to be quiet!"

Hermione answered stiffly, "Well, I assure you it wasn't me, I was quite ill last night actually."

At this mention, the twins snickered even more loudly.

Fanny frowned at her. "You, ill! That is nonsense! I saw you last night having quite the time with-"the twins interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Say, Hermione!"

"We just remembered!"

"Mum had asked to see you before!"

"So silly of us to forget!"

"Yes, oh so silly!"

"Go and see her right now, why don't you?"

"Yes, it seemed very important."

Hermione, glad to escape Fuhrer Fanny, quickly slipped out the door.

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Ron Weasley awoke slowly to his very bright room which made his head pound about ten times harder.

_Well, that's Firewhiskey, for you, innit? _He thought. He remembered vaguely the events of the previous night, though they were quite muddled, and, after some point, non-existent. He remembered dancing with a few of Fleur's relatives. Her cousin Janelle had been particularly amusing, and quite the snogging buddy, if he could remember correctly. He smiled fondly at the memory. She was quite pretty, with flowing blonde hair, quite like Fleur's. He had danced with her straight away, right after dinner. After the bouquet-throwing ceremony they had locked themselves up in the broom shed for a good old time. He thought he might remember dancing with Hermione later in the night. Ha, he did remember trying to get her to have some firewhiskey, but she, as always, primly refused. She'd been seventeen for almost a year for Merlin's sake! Prude…

He sat up on his bed, and realizing that the covers were strewn across the floor, swung his feet over the edge of his bed. He lagged himself to his dresser to grab a shirt and a pair of jeans. He fished through his drawer to find a fresh pair of underwear, and in the process, he dropped a pair on the ground, where it slid under his bed. He stooped to pick it up, but when he grabbed his own underpants, he noticed there was something…else stuck to them.

With disgust, he pulled an obviously female pair of yellow polka-dotted panties from his own underwear. He trudged down the stairs, shouting all the while. "Mum, stop putting Ginny's things in my room! It's _revolting_! Honestly!" He opened the door to her room on the next landing and chucked the panties unceremoniously into the room.

Grumbling, he went back upstairs to dress, and then to have breakfast.

--------------------

Ginny couldn't have been happier as she dozed in Harry's arms as the sun streamed through her curtains. She nuzzled into his chest, perfectly content. Though Harry had wanted to end their relationship because he insisted it put her in danger, they had made a bargain last night. Harry was to leave soon after the wedding, first to pay a visit to his muggle relatives, then to Godric's Hollow. It had been difficult to avoid each other after Dumbledore's funeral, as Harry was staying in her house. Last night, they had danced, and, realizing that she might never see Harry alive again after he left on his mission to find the horcruxes and destroy Voldemort, she had made her proposal of one last night together.

Not like that!

They hadn't really _done _anything, just spent the entire evening sitting in the garden talking about nothing really. Like how pretty the stars were, secrets, childhood dreams and what they had wanted to be when they grew up when they were little.

This involved Harry, of course, to explain what exactly 'Pop-Eye' was.

Afterwards, they had sat on her bed playing wizard chess and talking some more. And then they had fallen asleep…like this, above the covers with her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist, chess pieces scattered about on her floor.

Ginny reminisced about the simply lovely prank she had pulled on Hermione last night, with the aid of Fred and George of course. They had invented these handy new candies called Ton-of-Tasteless-Tonic-Toffees. They contained enough substance to substantially intoxicate anyone easily, at least that's what the twins had guessed. They had said they needed a test subject, and when Hermione had dragged Ginny herself away from the Firewhiskey that evening, who better, she thought, than her prude of a friend? The twins willingly gave her a single toffee to tempt her friend with, after all, she was, and had been of age for a year now, and they agreed it was about time to loosen up their very own goody-two-shoes a bit. She had been quite comical, she remembered, nearly as bad as Ron. Ginny giggled at the memory and smirked mischievously at her accomplishment.

Unfortunately, however, her perfect moment was not to last long, as her god-awful brother barged into her room yelling something about 'disgusting' and 'ridiculous codswabble'.

Ginny noticed a yellow flying object as she peeked open one eye. She had froze, praying to Merlin that Ron would not come into her room and witness her comprising position, which would certainly result in Harry's premature death without You-Know-Who even laying a finger on him. Thankfully he had scampered off after chucking whatever it is he chucked into her room. The yelling had, unfortunately, caused Harry to stir from his peaceful sleep.

As he awoke, he smiled down at her, "Morning Ginny."

"Morning."

"What was Ron yelling about?"

"I really don't know, nor care." She sat up, glancing at the yellow object that Ron had thrown. It looked like some sort of fabric to her tired eyes. It had landed about half-way between her and Hermione's bed.

"Well, I'm going to go wash up Gin, see you downstairs." Harry said, as he slouched out of the room.

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Hermione ran into Harry just outside Ginny's room. She had run up to grab a book from her trunk to do some reading outside in the garden. Surely, if she was reading, Fanny would not disturb her any further.

"Morning Harry. Had a good night?" she asked, smirking slightly.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. Upon seeing the look on her face, however, he added, "Oh…well…nothing…I mean…we…no…"

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll see you downstairs. I'm just grabbing a book."

Hermione said good morning to Ginny, who was stretching and yawning on her bed.

"Morning Hermione. You don't happen to know what's got Ron so enraged this morning, do you?"

Hermione laughed. "Do any of us ever?"

"Mmm. You're right." She said, frowning at something on the floor. Hermione followed her gaze to a yellow pair of underwear in the middle of the floor between their beds.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Sorry, those are mine, I've no idea how they got all the way over there, my trunk's on the other side of the bed." She said, as she swept them up and plopped them in a laundry basket.

Ginny's eyes had swelled to the size of quaffles as she stared dumbly at Hermione as if she'd been hit with a body-binding curse.

As per why, Hermione had absolutely no idea.

**A/N: So…**

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	2. Livid

"Ginny, are you all right?" Hermione asked. Her friend was staring at her as if her head had been cut off, and Hermione really didn't know why. It was quite disturbing.

"Oh, um…yes." She said, placing a mischievous smirk on her face. "So…you had a good night I suppose."

Hermione looked at her quizzically. Why was Ginny looking at her like that? "Well…no actually. I can't remember much actually. I think I may have gotten very ill, I woke up on the floor of Ron's room this morning."

"On the floor," Ginny asked. "Why were you on the floor if you were…ahem…ill?" The poor girl looked very distraught and confused indeed.

"Oh, I don't know, I must have fallen off Harry's bed some time in the night."

"Oh…you slept on Harry's bed then…"

Hermione laughed. "Well, by the looks of him this morning, it's not as if he missed it exactly."

Ginny blushed and giggled. "Nothing happened, we just talked. A lot."

"Ah."

"Well. I'm going to head down to breakfast now, I'm starving."

"Alright, I'll see you down there, just looking for a book to get away from Fanny."

Ginny nodded in agreement and left the room quite quickly.

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As she headed down to the breakfast table, she pondered the very confusing events of the morning that had transpired. Ron had definitely thrown _Hermione_'s underwear into their room this morning. One didn't simply…leave their underwear lying around a floor above…it would have had to have been…removed.

Ack-Ginny didn't even want to think about it! I mean, she knew Hermione had like Ron for _ages_ and that he had liked her too, but…ewww, it was her brother for Merlin's sake!

I mean, yes, she had played her little prank on Hermione in hopes of getting her to loosen up. And, yes, maybe she had been hoping that in the process of Hermione being loosened up and Ron being of age and therefore taking advantage of all the free fire whiskey that something might happen, but not _this!_ God, think of how angry Hermione would be when she found out! The poor girl didn't even remember! Unless…maybe Hermione did really just get dumped on Harry's bed. Ron would know…hopefully. But, that was an awkward topic to talk to her brother about…

She knew one thing, she thought, as she saw her twin brothers squirming under her death glare, Fred and George were going to get an earful.

---------------------------------------------

"Oi, Tweedle-dee, Tweedle-dum! Outside. Now." She jabbed her finger to the back garden, which was deserted at present time.

The boys feigned confusion as they sauntered out into the garden. "What's up Gin?" they asked.

Ginny took a deep breath. "What the HELL did you put in those toffees? Poor Hermione can't remember a thing about last night! You told me that they would make her a bit tipsy, 'a little loony at most' were your words!"

"She can't remember anything at all? Oh dear, that's no good. Maybe we should lower the dose a little George?"

"I'd say so. We want all our clients to remember the fun times they have while using our products!"

"You DOLTS! How could you have let this _happen_!"

"Now, Gin, there are a few things that you unfortunately did not take into consideration."

"Yes, that's right. For one, Hermione, being our very own innocent little prefect she is, has absolutely no tolerance. You should have known this."

"Yes, and add in the fact that she is rather petite."

"And the fact that we only guessed how she would react to them based on our own testing, which has only occurred on ourselves."

"And then you must take into account our larger size, and capacity."

"So, therefore, you are perfectly liable in this matter. In fact, you were rather irresponsible last night, you left her all alone under the influence and ran off with dear Harry."

"I…I…that's not the point!"

"Actually Gin, I do believe it is. Good thing Fred and I were good-natured enough to watch over the little chit."

"Yeah, then she went into the house with Ron, so we figured we were home free. Those two really hit it off didn't they George?"

"Oh yes, dancing and laughing and whatnot, never seen them both so happy. I bet they snuck a snog behind our backs too, mind you. And didn't Hermione did catch the bouquet? Do I hear wedding bells Fred?"

"I think you may, wouldn't that be simply lovely if those two got together thanks to us?"

"They could promote the toffees for us! I can just see the ad in the Daily Prophet now!"

"Oh yeah, they really hit it off, they hit it off _real _well," growled Ginny. "Yes, it's because they hit it off so well that Hermione woke up on Ron's floor this morning having no idea why she felt so ill, not knowing why she couldn't remember last night! And I suppose it's also just swell that Ron chucked a pair of yellow polka-dot panties into my room this morning that certainly weren't mine!"

"She woke up in…Ron's room?"

"Yes."

"Feeling ill?"

"Yes. She thinks Ron, being the gentleman we all know he is, judging by his behaviour with Fleur's cousin last night anyways, carried her upstairs and that she slept on Harry's bed."

"Huh. And Ron chucked a strange pair of yellow polka-dot panties into your room this morning…"

"Yes."

"That came from his room…where Hermione woke up on the floor?"

"YES, YOU INSUFFERABLE DUNCE!"

A smile broke on Fred's face. "Our little Ronnikins got lucky last night! And to think, Miss coughPrudecough!"

"Yeah, and it's just lovely that neither of them remember what happened!"

"Hmm. You're right, that could be potentially problematic…"

"Let's just not tell them," George quickly concluded.

"Yeah, you're right, what they don't know can't hurt them. Smart idea George."

"I can't believe you. Do you understand what consequences this could have?" Ginny said, raising her voice.

"Obviously not. Enlighten us why don't you?"

"We have to find out what happened! Isn't there a spell or something that we can do on them to make them remember?"

Fred scratched his chin. "Not that I know of. Mind you, not that I know a lot of useful spells. You know what, I bet Hermione would know one!"

Ginny shook her head quickly. "I'm not asking her!"

"Why not?"

"Because then she'll ask why I need a spell to make peopleremember what happened to them while they were _hammered!"_

"And that's bad because..."

"Because it's Hermione and she'll figure it out! Honestly, it's a wonder you managed _three_ OWLS between you..."

"Well then, your idea just really sucks then, doesn't it!"

Ginny frowned. "You're boys. Don't you talk about that kind of thing? Why don't you two go hit up Ron and see what you can find out."

"Well, yeah, but…eeewww, not with siblings."

"Yeah, that's just like, against The Code."

"The Code?" Ginny asked skeptically.

"Yeah, The Code of Brotherly Honour."

"And it goes against this 'Code' because?"

"Because it clearly states that one's shagging habits are a subject to be talked about in detail only with friends, not siblings, that's vile. Hypothetically, however, then it's fine."

"Well then," Ginny said, glaring at the two again. "Why don't you two go hypothetically ask Ron whether or not he kept Mr. Snake in his trousers last night?"

---------------------------------

Hermione was having a nice relaxing afternoon in the sunshine, reading _Hogwarts: A History, _for the sixteenth time. It was quite sad, as she really didn't know whether she would be seeing the place where she had grown up ever again. They were scheduled to leave for Harry's relative's house in less than a week, and after that the final adventure of their lives would take off.

Not that she meant final as in final she thought they were all going to die final, but final as in that if (and she hoped that they would) and when they got back from destroying the horcruxes and Voldemort that there would be no more adventures. Hermione tried not to think of her life beyond that point, as first of all, she really had no clue as to how long it would take them to accomplish what they were to set out to do, and second, she had absolutely no idea what she would do when she returned. She supposed that maybe if she wasn't too old when returned, she might go back to Hogwarts (if it was still there) for another year to write her NEWTS. She couldn't see herself ever being content in life without completing her education. She also couldn't see herself getting a real job without completing her education either.

I mean, sure the Weasley's had done it, but they had had quite the hefty loan from Harry to start off, and they were really very lucky to have succeeded. Speaking of which, she had wanted to go and ask them if they had their new Harry Potter action figures completed yet, she had wanted to give one to Harry for his birthday, which was in just over two weeks. She scanned the yard for Fanny to make sure the coast was clear before reluctantly setting down her book on the grass beside her chair.

She had seen them walk into the house about ten minutes ago, or so she guessed, grumbling to each other with an angry-looking Ginny following them closely, shooting sharp comments at them every so often.

Hermione was still confused as to Ginny's strange behaviour this morning and had been meaning to have a chat with her. It was odd for Ginny to behave in such a strange manner, and also strange for her to seek out Fred and George's company rather than her own. She had reached the back door into the old house's kitchen, and paused when she heard voices. She immediately identified one as Ginny's, as it was distinctly more high-pitched than the others, and another as Ron. She guessed that the other one (two?) was either Fred and/or George. She had her hand placed on the doorknob when she heard something so disturbing her pinkie finger twitched before it froze, poised on the edge of the door:

"Why in the name of Merlin would you think that I shagged Hermione?!?! We're _friends_ how many times do I have to tell you!"

"I think that you shagged Hermione, Ron, because this morning you rudely disturbed my peaceful rest with your hollering, and chucking of a certain pair of yellow-polka-dot panties into my room!"

"Yeah…they were yours, weren't they? Mum puts your stuff in my room, and my trunk for that matter all the time. I'll never forget the bra fiasco two years ago! Dean and Seamus wouldn't leave me in peace for weeks!"

"Ron. They were Hermione's. I saw her pick them up and throw them into the laundry basket."

"That doesn't mean anything. She could have just been…tidying up!"

"Yes, because I'm sure you pick up Harry's underwear when he leaves it in the middle of the floor without even breaking a cringe."

"…well…"

"You were so intoxicated last night that you don't remember anything at all, do you?"

"…I remember getting having a rather pleasant excursion with Fleur's cousin in the broom shed out back."

Fred and George clapped their brother on the back whilst Ginny let out a disgusted growl. "Good on you, mate, two girls in one night!" Ginny glared daggers at the three smiling boys, who then quickly sobered up resumed discussing the problem at hand.

"Ron, all I ask is that you think logically for just _one_ minute. There's a lot of signs that point to the possibility of...well...I mean surely you must remember...something?"

Ron rolled his eyes, blushing all the same. "Merlin Ginny, why would-"

"BECAUSE RONALD!" The redhead was now livid. She stepped closer to him and spoke quietly as death, "_Don't _play stupid with me, I know that you've liked Hermione for ages and that whole little escapade with Lavender was very much just your way of dealing with jealousy in a very immature manner. And anyone with _eyes _could see that Hermione feels the same way, obviously you lack a viable pair..."

"But...I...we"

"Look, don't you think Ronald, that under the...circumstances you may have let...I mean, you obviously weren't in your right mind and neither was she..."

"What?"

"She means that you, having a few too many fire whiskeys, mate, might have thought a little too much with your pants instead of your noggin."

Ginny cringed. "Thank you, Fred for that...explanation. The point-"

Ron suddenly spoke up, "You just said that Hermione was gone over the moon too, and she also doesn't remember anything. That's not exactly like Hermione to be...irresponsible like that."

Ginny blushed and stuttered. "Well...I mean...um...she."

At which, Fred and George shared a pair of beaming smiles, "Yeah, that's our dear little Miss Prankster Jr.'s fault here. See, she readily allowed us to test our new product on Miss Prude and didn't have the sense to baby-sit her in order to avoid dire consequences, such as demonstrated!"

"Oh! So this is your fault then, is it? Trying to put the blame on me for something I probably didn't even do..."

"Well, you _did_ do it, and if we're going to go into technicalities, then I'm sure most would agree that you actually _are _responsible. True I may be responsible for slightly-" Ron glared at her. "Okay, fine..._majorly _ impairing Hermione's judgment. BUT, your judgment was entirely _your_ responsibility. And besides, I'm not the one who decided to invent such a completely useless and stupid candy. Honestly, do you really expect those to be successful?" She spat at her twin brothers.

"Well Gin, see they're handy in situations exactly like this, when you have an uptight friend who needs some loosening up, and, well, these candies do just that...as proven!"

"AND they're _tasteless, _well, the tonic is anyways. They taste like mint so you can either use them for pranking an innocent rule-follower, or they're good for those who just can't stand fire whiskey!"

Ginny glared at her brothers in disgust. "Fine, Ron, think what you want, I really don't care. But if you're not going to admit that you did it, just...leave Hermione out of this, she has enough on her plate right now." She looked at each boy before she spoke again, "Not to mention she'll livid with all four of us if she finds out, regardless of whether _anything _happened."

Hermione released her hand from the doorknob.

Livid...

Boy was _that _an understatement.


	3. The Worst Dinner in Wizarding History

A/N: My internet is going down and I thought an update with a few spelling/grammar errors would be better than waiting a week so enjoy!

Hermione's hand grasped the door knob into the Burrow and had turned it a fraction of an inch before letting go of it and returning to her spot in the garden where _Hogwarts: A History_ awaited her. She picked it up and tried to concentrate on the words. She tried to forget what she heard.

Because it couldn't possibly be true, could it?

She wouldn't have done..._that_ with Ron, would she?

Well, maybe not now, she thought. _Yeah, at least not at the drop of a pin, _said a little voice in her head. It was this teenie tiny little voice that made her so frustrated that she threw down _Hogwarts: A History _in frustration.

_But you know I'm right. You know you probably would, if it weren't for your good head on your shoulders._

That's right, she told the irritating voice, which sounded oddly like Fanny, she _did _have a good head on her shoulders. She valued herself, and she wouldn't just toss it away...not even to Ron.

_But you're forgetting what Ginny said aren't you? If you'll remember, she said that she pranked you. She said that she did it on purpose. She said that she knew what it would do to you, you heard her say it. And if that's true, then maybe your 'good head' just went for a little trip to the guillotine for a few hours last night..._

Hermione frowned. This was true, for all she knew, her head could have been completely off her shoulders while she was...under the influence thanks to her friend's simply lovely and thoughtful prank. But of course, she wouldn't know what she was like then, would she, because she didn't _remember_! She thought bitterly of Ginny and what possibly could have caused her to do such a thing to her 'friend.'

_You know she just meant it as a joke._

Yes, well, her joke didn't turn out very well now, did it?

_Well, it was Fred and George's product that made you loose your head, not Ginny._

That's right, she thought. How many times had their mother told them how dangerous their products could be if not properly tested.

_And then there's Ron. He's the one who's __really __responsible._

Yes, thought Hermione. If anything _had _happened, it was completely and utterly that insufferable prat's fault. He was her _best friend_. She knew Harry would _never _pull a stunt like that, no matter how many firewhiskeys he had...

_But you also know that Ron likes you, and has for a while._

That was also true.

But he should be able to have some self-restraint, honestly...

"Hey Hermione! Want to come play Quidditch?" Hermione looked upwards to find the voice that was calling to her to meet with a pair of eyes she had absolutely no desire to see.

Ron Weasley was hovering above her head on his vibrating Cleansweep.

"No Ron, I do not want to play Quidditch. Merlin, when have I _ever _wanted to play Quidditch?"

Ron scrunched up his face. "Fine the, be like that, I was just asking is all. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Yes, well, you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"And just _what _is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh please Ronald, don't be daft. I heard you shouting in the kitchen! You and Fred and George and Ginny!"

Ron paled signifigantly but before he could speak, Hermione raged on, "And you have the _nerve _to come and ask _me _if I want to play _Quidditch?_"

"Well...I just thought-"

"Oh! You just _thought_ did you?" she spat. "That's ironic since obviously _none _of you were thinking all that much last night from what I heard!"

Ginny cringed as she heard the argument escalating from a few hundred feet away. It had been awhile since the two had had a row, so it was really a little overdue if you thought about it...

"Hey!" Shouted Ron, "It's not as if it's _my _fault. If you had stayed and listened, you'd realise that this whole thing that probably _never even happened _is all _Ginny's _fault!"

Oh, thank you very much Ron, bring me into this, thought Ginny.

Hermione drew her knees up to her chest and sighed, resigned. "Ron, I don't want to hear about it. Just...leave me alone."

"OOHHH so it's all prefectly all right when you want to yell at me, but when Ginny comes into the picture, Merlin help us, you want to be left _alone. _Fine then sulk all by yourself, see if I care." Ron flew off in a rage and managed to miss nearly every quaffle that flew near his keeper hoops in the game that ensued.

-------------------------------

Hermione trudged back to the Burrow come six 'o clock, dreading the dinner that was sure to be awkward. She didn't want to see anyone right now...well maybe Malfoy, she could use an outlet for her anger right now...where was that murdurous ferret when you needed him?

When she entered the burrow, she noticed that all the Quidditch players, aka the perpetrators of her misery were all gathered in the sitting room, chatting away as if nothing had happened. Hermione was almost thankful for Fanny forcing conversation upon her.

"You're not a Quiddeetch fan, I 'ope? Seemply dreadful sport."

Hermione smiled. "No, I'm not much of a flyer."

"Yes, you see in France we don't bother with such theengs, it just makes more trouble for us in the long run, muggles are curious theengs they are. Why, in the ceety, we simply use thee public transport like thee muggles themselves. Thee metro it is simply outstanding, for a muggle invention nevertheless."

"Oh yes, I've been to Paris before and you can get anywhere in the entire city quite efficiently without magic. I can only immagine how hard it would be to apparate with all the muggles around everywhere. And there aren't very many places in the countryside that go for long stretches without villages, so flying must be out of the question."

Their terribly interesting conversation on muggle public transport, however, was cut short when Mrs. Weasley called for dinner...

--------------------------------

"For goodness sake, Ron, pass the salt already!"

"Well, I like my food to be particularly salty, if you don't mind."

"Fine, die of a heart attack by thirty for all I care."

"Better dying young than old, shrivelled and alone with only cats and books for company."

"Better alone than with some tart and a bunch of raunchy children."

"Uptight are we?"

"Uptight? Uptight! You know very well that that prank was anything but funny and could have had-well, still might have _disastrous _concequences."

"Oh yeah, real disastrous, you're just upset because, well you know, I'm not completely stupid, I know how girls make a big deal out of...you know the _first time _and everything..." Hermione stared at him incredulously, "I mean we all know that despite Victor's intentions you never would have let that blundering idiot anywhere near...I mean, we were only in fourth year...and I can only assume that McLaggen and you never...you know, I kind of pitty the bloke, you're a right piece o' work."

"You think that's why I'm upset? You think that-that...it actually-are you actually, _entertaining_ the idea that what your insane and irresponsible sister can only _guess _at, actually _happened? _And furthermore, you _dare _use that as an excuse as to why I'm upset! And even if it were because of that-that would be a perfectly good reason to be upset, anyone would be!" When Ron rolled his eyes, Hermione raged on, "Just because you were so eager to give it up to that-that absolute _twit_, Lavender, doesn't mean that I don't have more self-respect! How can you-"

Ron cut her off, "Hermione, come off it-"

"NO, Ron!" people at the dinner table turned to see why she had had such a sudden outburst. She picked at her salad for a few minutes before resuming whispering to Ron in a hushed voice, "And as for what possible concequences, are you so utterly daft that you don't understand what exactly we supposedly _did_?"

"Come on 'Mione, it's not that bad, I mean, neither of us remember anything, right, so we can just forget about it and move on, like nothing happened, right?"

Hermione's mouth hung open and her shoulders heaved, tears forming in her eyes. "Ron, you can't be saying that...how can you ask me to..._forget _about something like this?!?! How can you!"

"Hermione...don't cause a scene, really..."

Too late. Mrs. Weasley turned to see Hermione's distraught appearance and immediately inquired, "Hermione, dear, what's the matter? Are you alright dear? Is the casserole too spicy? Ron, fetch some water for her, will you?"

Ron sent her another glare as he rose to get a glass a water and ice from the kitchen. Hermione dabbed her eyes with her napkin, uncomfortable that now a great deal of the Weasley and Delacour relatives were staring at her. Ginny was mouthing some words at her from accross and down the table, but she just shook her head discretely, not wanting to attract more attention. When Ron returned, he set the glass down roughly in front of her, then resumed his seat on her left. Hermione sipped her water, and table conversation gradually resumed.

Mr. Weasley stood up just then, "I propose a toast, to the newly married couple, Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley, who will be leaving on their honeymoon shortly, may you share many happy, prosperous years together among these dark times we face now."

"And have many, many children!" Piped up Mrs. Weasley. Fleur and Bill promtly blushed the deepest of rouge. "I certainly hope you won't be making me wait that long for my first grandchild, we need another young one to spoil!"

Neither Hermione or Ron were paying the least attention to Mrs. Weasley, they were arguing yet again...

"And you act like this is all _my _fault, Hermione!"

"Well, it is!"

"But Ginny-and Fred and George!"

"Well, yes, I'm not saying that their little games didn't have any pull-"

"Any pull! If its' anyone's fault, it's theirs!"

"Don't you give me that, Ronald Weasley, you know very well that you could have shown a little responsibility, honestly. And now, after the fact, at least take responsibility for your actions!"

"Take responsibility? You're one to talk! Out of all of us, you're the only one who hasn't taken ANY responsibility!"

"Because I'm not responsible for this in any way! You very well know that I never would have done anything of the sort if I hadn't been...hadn't-well..."

"That's just an excuse."

"What, you think that this still would have happened if I-no if _both _of us had been in a right state of mind?"

Ron's anger on his face flickered momentarily as if he was hurt slightly by her comment. "I've no reason to think that it would, I mean you _are _Hermione. The one that drags me to the library every sodding spare moment to work on some type of homework or research or-"

"And you're Ron. The most insensitive prat I know and the most dim-witted, second only to Crabbe and Goyle." spat Hermione in return.

That seemed to settle their argument. The two sat in silence for the remainder of the dinner.

It was the most awkward silence that Hermione had ever before endured.

---------------------------------------------

After dinner, Harry approached Hermione as she settled down in front of the fire in the Weasley's sitting room, clutching a rather heavy textbook.

"Hermione, what was all that about with Ron at dinner time? You two didn't have another of your rows did you? Because if you two are going to be not speaking to eachother and tearing at eachother's throats for the next few months, I think you'd better just go back to Hogwarts because I can't deal with Voldemort, and the Horcruxes and you two all at the same time."

Hermione sighed. "Don't worry about Ron and me Harry, we'll be fine."

"I suppose. You do have rows about every other day. Just as long as it wasn't a big one, right?"

Hermione smiled. "No, no. You've nothing to worry about. From here on out it's us three together. We'll be with you right up until...until..." she trailed off. The future was still a rocky subject seeing as not one of them even dared to voice the hope that they might all make it out of the ordeal alive. "So…when do you think we'll be able to leave? I'm assuming you want as much of a head start as possible."

"Well, Dumbledore…he-he insisted that I had to pay a visit to the Dursleys-for my own protection…I suppose I could leave for Little Whinging tomorrow and be back by the end of the week so we can leave."

Hermione's eyes widened. "So soon?"

"Well, yeah…I mean, as much as I would rather spend the week here than at the Dursley's…"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, well I suppose Mrs. Weasley will take it the hardest. I'm sure she would have fancied spending more than a mere week with her youngest son before he took off again on yet another mission to save the world with Harry Potter."

"Yeah I know-wait-what? But you guys are going to be here ano-"

"Oh Harry, don't be silly, you didn't think we'd make you go visit those awful relatives all by yourself did you?" Hermione said. Selfishly, she was also thinking that despite how much she love Mrs. Weasley, she didn't really desire to be left in the company of the causes of her recent misery, the twins, Ginny, Ron, and of course Fanny and Fleur's other insano relatives.

"Yeah," said Ron, who just entered the room, but had obviously been eavesdropping from the kitchen. "I think it's about time the Dursleys meet your friends. Your _of age_ friends," he said with a smirk. "That cousin of yours is going to think that piggy tail of his was child's play when we're through with him…"

Hermione decided that a warning was not worth actually speaking to Ron, so instead she just shot him a glare, which he returned.

She was also thinking that dealing with the Dursleys would provide a distraction for her and Ron to get over this entire fiasco completely.


End file.
